My Husband Wants An Open Marriage (Julie and Ryan) novel Chapter 103

CHAPTER 103: La Hora Loca 

~~Julie~~ 

I have to say this: Luke’s family knows how to party. It’s like everyone’s high and energetic. Even the children aren’t left out. It’s one thing to practice a dance, and it’s another to actually use those moves. I’m stumbling, but I don’t care. Because I’m happy. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. 

I can’t keep track of the number of people I’ve danced with. 

I’ve lost Luke for the hundredth time tonight. The last time I saw him, he was being dragged into a conga line by his mother, who seemed to have the stamina of a teenager. Somewhere between the flashing lights and the sea of bodies spinning and stomping, he’d disappeared again. 

I stumble slightly in my heels, though at this point they feel more like medieval torture devices. My silver dress–once sleek and elegant–is now sticking to me like a second skin, the fabric damp with sweat from almost an hour of dancing. I brush confetti out of my hair. It’s everywhere–on my shoulders, even stuck to the perspiration on my arms. 

A group of children dash past me, their laughter as wild as the party itself. One of them hands me a glowing baton before disappearing back into the fray. I shake my head, grinning, twirling the baton in the air like a queen waving her scepter. 

Finally, I spot him, standing by the bar, his tie undone and his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Luke Martinez, the love of my life, looking like he’d just finished filming the climax of an action movie. 

“There you are!” I shout over the music as I make my way toward him, my voice barely carrying above the crowd. 

When I reach him, he’s holding a glass of water in one hand, his dark hair messy and damp from all the dancing. His grin is wicked as his eyes sweep over me. “You’re sweaty.” 

“You’re one to talk. I’ve been doing a lot,” I say, wiping my brow with the back of my hand. 

He tilts his head, smirking. “You definitely have.” 

I lean closer. “Do you think they’ll notice if we escape?” 

He doesn’t respond at first, narrowing his eyes as though considering the logic behind my question. When realization dawns, he chuckles. “Mrs. Martinez, you couldn’t wait until the honeymoon?” 

“Mr. Martinez,” I reply, sliding my fingers down his arm, “I’m about to sneak out to the car. If you don’t meet me there in five minutes, there will be no honeymoon until the baby comes.” 

His laughter is loud. “Yes, ma’am,” he says. 

Satisfied, I turn on my heel and weave through the crowd. I’m intercepted several times by well–wishers and relatives offering their congratulations for the millionth time. My cheeks hurt from smiling, but the warmth of their affection fills me with a kind of glow that nothing else can replicate. 

By the time I reach the car, the night air feels cool against my flushed skin. I lean against the limo, looking up at the stars that seem to wink down at me. The muffled thud of the party is still audible, but out here, it feels like a different world–quiet, peaceful. 

Luke arrives moments later, slightly breathless but still grinning. “Four minutes and forty seconds,” he announces proudly. 

I laugh, shaking my head. “You were keeping count?” 

“You weren’t? So I was just running around for nothing?” 

“Running around? What exactly were you doing?” 

“Had to tell the guests goodbye before they think we were kidnapped.” 

“We’re not going back?” I ask, though I know the answer before the words even leave my mouth. 

Luke’s smile grows wider as the chauffeur hurries out of the building and opens the back of the limo for us. 

I don’t argue. I slide into the plush leather seats with Luke beside me, letting out a sigh of relief as the car pulls away from the venue. 

We stare at each other for a moment. And then his lips fall on mine. 

The contact starts a fire deep inside me, one that only more touches can quench. 

Luke’s hands delve into my hair, pulling me closer as his tongue explores the depths of my mouth. I moan softly into the kiss, my hands grabbing onto his shirt as I pull him tighter. The urgency between us is a wild, untamed thing that threatens to consume us both. 

I can feel his heart racing against mine. His hands move down my back, pulling me even closer as he groans into the kiss. I can taste the saltiness of his sweat, the sweetness of his lips, and it only fuels the fire. 

I pull away. “Take my dress off. I can’t breathe in this thing.” 

“You should have gotten one of the round ones. We wouldn’t need to take it off.” 

I glare at him, and he laughs. 

Luke’s fingers fumble with the zipper, his urgency evident as he tries to free me from the confines of my gown. The sound of it grinding against the fabric is punctuated by our heavy breathing. I help him pull the gown down my arms, the material catching on my hips before he slides it to the floor. We’re both panting now, our eyes locked on each other as I take his jacket and his shirt off. 

His hands reach out, pulling me close as he crushes his lips against mine again. 

With a sudden movement, Luke scoops me up. His hands grip my hips as he takes me to the jump seat. I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms circling his neck. He settles us down onto the soft leather, his body pressed against mine as we collapse. Luke’s mine, the intensity of his gaze leaving me breathless as he pulls me closer, his lips finding mine in a passionate kiss. 

I feel his hands moving in between my thighs. 

eyes meet 

He pushes the g–string aside, and I see stars in my head as he digs a finger inside me. He pulls the finger out, then pushes back in. 

I moan, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through my body. 

“I can see why you were eager to come out,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “You’re so wet.” 

I feel myself getting lost in the sensation, my hips moving instinctively in time with his finger. I can’t help but moan louder, the pleasure building inside me. “Yes,” I say. 

“I’ll take you partying more often,” he teases. “If this is how you get after dancing.”